Chapter 1: Omega’s Despair
Elara’s POV
The dirt tasted like rust and old rain. My teeth ground into it before I could even suck in a breath, and then there was a boot pressing the side of my face deeper into the mud. The earth was wet from last night’s storm, so cold it stung my lips, and I could smell worms and grass crushed beneath me. Laughter spilled over my head, sharp and cruel, and I didn’t need to lift my face to know who it was.
“Shift,” Lila said. Her voice was the kind of sweetness that cut open skin. Nails-on-glass sweet. “Come on, freak, show us your wolf.”
Her little pack of shadows giggled behind her. They were always there, the daughters of betas and gammas who orbited her like she was their sun. One of them grabbed my hair, yanked my head back so hard tears shot into my eyes. I blinked against the sting, my scalp burning, and saw their perfect smirking faces hanging over me like vultures.
“I can’t,” I said. The words scraped my throat raw. It wasn’t even a scream, it was just air and broken sound, and the moment it left my lips I regretted it.
“You can’t?” Lila crouched low, her perfume smothering me. Her nails, painted blood red, dug into my jaw as she tilted my face up. She grinned wide, flashing her teeth, the Alpha’s niece enjoying her theater. “Say it louder. Say it so the whole damn pack hears how useless you are.”
Her friends cackled, the sound bouncing off the trees around the training field. I tried to push up from the ground, but another boot landed square on my back, pressing so hard my ribs groaned. I sucked in air and tasted blood again.
“She doesn’t even have a wolf,” one girl said, her laughter bubbling over like champagne. “What’s the point of her breathing?”
I wanted to answer. I wanted to spit in her face. I wanted to claw her throat open with the wolf I didn’t have. But my chest just heaved, each breath tighter than the last. Rage burned hotter than the pain, but rage didn’t move my limbs. Rage didn’t save me.
And they were right. Every single one of them. Eighteen years old and still no shift. No wolf. No future. Just the shame of the pack. Just the mistake of who should’ve died the day she was born.
Lila’s lips curled like she could read my thoughts. “You know what tonight is, don’t you?” Her voice dripped with mock pity. “The marking ceremony. Everyone will find their mates. But not you. Never you.” She spat on the ground so close to my cheek I felt it splash. “Who’d want a broken thing like you?”
Heat crawled up my neck, shame sinking its claws into me so deep I wanted to peel off my own skin. The truth of it was a noose around my throat. I would never stand under the moon and feel a mate’s bond snap into place. I would never carry strength in my blood. Just weakness. Just dirt.
And then…the word came, strong and commanding.
“Enough.”
The word dropped like a stone in water. The boot on my back lifted immediately. Lila went stiff. Her friends stumbled back like shadows retreating from a flame.
My pulse roared in my ears as the crowd parted, and there he was.
Kael.
He strode into the clearing like the air bent for him, like the earth itself held still until he decided to move again. His black jacket pulled tight across broad shoulders, his dark hair falling into his eyes but not softening them, never softening them. His gaze cut across the field, sharp and cold, before landing on me. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away. Then his stare slid to Lila, and her smirk died on her lips.
“W-we were just…” she started.
“Leave.” His voice carried a command that didn’t belong to him yet not officially. But it didn’t matter. Everyone obeyed Kael.
Lila swallowed, eyes darting between us, then snapped her fingers for her girls to follow. They slunk away, but not before she threw me one last look, a glare that promised I’d pay double for this later.
And then it was just me and him.
Kael didn’t offer a hand. He didn’t kneel to check if I was bleeding. He crouched in front of me slowly, boots grinding against the gravel, until his face was level with mine. His hand came out fast, strong fingers clamping around my chin, jerking my face up.
“Why do you let them treat you like this?” His voice was sharp enough to peel skin.
“I…” My voice cracked. Whatever excuse I thought I had, it strangled itself in my throat.
His head tilted, studying me the way you’d study a bug under glass. Then his grip slid down and wrapped around my wrist.
It was like being struck by lightning.
A jolt ripped through me so fierce I thought my bones would shatter. Heat shot up my arm, through my chest, flooding every vein with fire. My knees gave out. My breath locked. And then, somewhere deep, too deep, something moved. Something I hadn’t felt in eighteen years. My wolf.
She slammed against me from the inside, snarling, clawing, desperate to break through my skin. My vision blurred. My nails lengthened just enough to pierce my palm when I clenched. My heart thundered so loud I thought the ground could hear it.
Kael’s eyes widened for just a breath, surprise, fear, recognition, I couldn’t tell. Then his jaw hardened, his grip tightened. He felt it too. The spark. The bond.
No. No, no, no. Fate couldn’t be this cruel.
I tried to rip my wrist from his grasp, but he was iron. His eyes burned into mine like he could pin me there forever, like he was trying to smother what just sparked to life.
“What are you doing out here?” His voice was rougher now, grating. “You should be working, not wandering like you’re one of us.”
“I finished early,” I whispered, my chest still heaving, the fire still burning under my skin.
“Finished early?” His mouth twisted, cruel. “You mean you’re slacking off.”
The words stung. I pressed my free hand against my chest, like I could cage the beast writhing inside me, like I could stop her from tearing me apart.
His grip lingered too long. His stare held too much. Then, suddenly, he shoved me back.
I hit the ground, palms scraping against gravel. The fire inside me coiled tight, restless, hungry. My wolf was awake now, and she wasn’t going back to sleep.
“Pathetic,” he muttered, turning away.
My wrist still burned where his hand had been. My chest rose and fell too fast. My wolf snarled at the word, at him, at me. I didn’t know what this was, but I knew it was dangerous.
And then the air changed. It didn't sound right at first. It was silent, heavy and suffocating.
“Kael.”
The voice came from behind me, deep and heavy enough to root me to the earth. My body went rigid. My lungs froze. I didn’t need to turn to know. I turned anyway.
Orion. The Alpha.
He filled the space like a storm cloud, his presence pressing the air itself down. His eyes, cold steel sharpened on cruelty, swept over the scene. Kael’s clenched fist. My trembling body. And then he saw it. The faint golden flicker is still burning in my eyes.
Recognition flashed across his face, quick as lightning. Then came fury, slow and venomous, twisting his mouth as his gaze cut through me.
His voice was steady, but every word dripped like acid.
“What,” he said, his stare never breaking from mine, “is my son doing with her?”